Lyrical Breakdown of Duel Of The Iron Mic - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Duel Of The Iron Mic" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how GZA/Genius feat. Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Rebel Ins & Masta Killa weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Duel Of The Iron Mic" is a testament to masterful songwriting.
  • Rhyme and Rhythm Analysis: Our Lazyjot editor highlights the ingenious use of multi-syllabic rhymes and the rhythm pattern that GZA/Genius feat. Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Rebel Ins & Masta Killa employs. Understand the construction of each verse and how it contributes to the song's overall impact.
  • Syllable Pattern Insights: Dive deeper into the structural elements of the lyrics. See how the syllable count varies across the song, adding a unique rhythm and flow to GZA/Genius feat. Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Rebel Ins & Masta Killa's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Duel Of The Iron Mic" not only celebrates GZA/Genius feat. Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Rebel Ins & Masta Killa's artistic prowess but also serves as an educational tool for aspiring songwriters. If this analysis inspires you and you'd like to see your own songs analyzed in this way, join the Lazyjot community. Register at Lazyjot and start exploring the full potential of your lyrical creativity. Turn your thoughts into rhymes and your rhymes into songs with Lazyjot!

Ohh mad one

We see your trap

You can never escape, your fate

Submit with honor to a duel, with my son

I agree

I see you're using an old style, I wondered where you'd learned it from

You know very well, it's yours too

Heh, I had forgotten, will you show me?

And what have you come for?

You come here, since you're so interested - fight me

Yo

Picture bloodbaths and elevator shafts

Like these murderous rhymes tight from genuine craft

Check the print, it's where veterans spark the letterings

Slow moving MC's is waiting for the editing

The liquid soluble that made up the chemistry

A gaseous element, that burned down your ministry

Herbal vapors, and biblical papers

Smoking Exodus, every square yard is plush

Fuck the screw-faced photo sessions facial expression

Leaves impressions, try to keep a shark nigga guessing

Give crazy shouts Son here's the outcome

Cut across the semi-gloss rhymes you floss

Shit is outdated, just like neckloads of Sterlings

Suede-fronts, bell-bottoms, and tri-colored Shearlings

I ain't particular, I bang like vehicular homicides

On July 4th in Bed-Stuy

Where money don't grown on trees and there's thieving MC's

Who cut-throat to rake leaves

They can't breathe, blood splash, rushing fast

Like running rivers, I be that whiskey in your liver

Duel of the Iron Mic!

It's the fifty-two fatal strikes!

This is not a eighty-five affair, made clear

When the Gods get on to perform storms blew up

Wu's up, causing the crowd to self-destruct

Killer bees are stinging while I reveal

Science, that's heavily guarded by the culprit

Bombing your barracks, with aerodynamic

Swordplay, poison darts by the doorway

Minds that's laced with explosive doses

Damaging lyrical launcher

Lunge at the youthful offender then injure

Any contender, testing the murderous Master

Could lead to disaster, dynamite thoughts

Explode through your barrier, rips the retina

Who can withstand the astonishing punishing

Stings to the sternum, shocked in the hip-hop livestock

Seeking for a serum, to cure em

Adults kill for drugs plus the young bucks bust

Ducking handcuffs, throats get cut when dough rush

Out of town foes look shook but still pose

We move like real pros through the streets we stroll

Bullet holes lace the windows in one-six-oh

So control the avenues that's the dream that's sold

Building lobbies are graveyards for small-timers

Bitches caught in airports, kis in they vaginas

No peace, yo the police mad corrupt

You get bagged up, depending if you're passing the cut

Plus shorty's not a shorty no more, he's living heartless

Regardless of the charges, claims to be the hardest

Individual, critical thoughts, criminal minded

Blinded by illusion, finding it confusing

Huh, Master, he must be dreaming, heh

Well, if he is dreaming then he must be asleep

And if he's asleep, then I will wake him up!